The First Week
by kryzlin
Summary: One-shot detailing how I imagined Bella's first week without Edward in New Moon.


A/N: This is a one-shot story detailing how I though Bella's first week without Edward may have gone (New Moon). Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any of the Twilight books.

All reviews are encouraged and appreciated. Enjoy!

* * *

DAY 1:

He's gone.

* * *

DAY 2:

"You don't want me?"

"No."

Strange how one word, two letters can destroy your entire life.

* * *

DAY 3:

Somehow I've managed to function, just enough to fulfill my basic needs. I must have eaten, although I don't remember it. I know I must have showered because my hair is wet. Charlie came into my room to check on me. I don't remember what he said. He looked sad. I didn't care. I was past feeling for others.

* * *

DAY 4:

I try my hardest to ignore the pain that comes every time I think about him. And I think about him a lot. Bits and pieces of that fatal conversation keep returning to me. "You're not good for me." "I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not." "I've let this go on much too long."

The rain comes down outside my window, echoing a constant, beating rhythm. It's overbearing.

I am drowning.

* * *

DAY 5:

Every thought I have brings me back to him. Everything I see reminds me of him. I force myself to not think his name. But I can't get his face out of my head. I see him and I feel myself breaking. Not only my heart; it shattered the second he left. But slowly, every inch of me, every part of me, physical and emotional is breaking. How do you hold yourself together when the one person you are willing to hold yourself together for is gone? He's everywhere. He's killing me.

* * *

DAY 6:

Today was better. I woke up and saw that the rain had stopped. I smiled for one whole second before reality struck. I went back to sleep.

Hours later, Charlie came in, asked me if I wanted to go out for dinner. I tried to remember if I was hungry, if I had eaten in days. It didn't matter. I said no. Charlie is lost; he doesn't know what to do. That makes two of us.

* * *

DAY 7:

Charlie made me get out of bed. He had let me miss almost a week of school. I know that it was good of him to let me stay out of public for as long as he did. I knew it would be unreasonable to argue. But for a brief moment, I couldn't help but hate him for making me go back. I didn't care about the people. They would know that he was gone. They would have already heard about my breakdown. They would stare and whisper. I didn't care. Stares and whispers couldn't hurt me. People would ask me if I was okay. They would remind me of him. Remembering would hurt. Edward would be there. He would be in my English class, my Math class, at lunch. He would haunt me there, even more than he did in my room. At least I could seek unconsciousness in my room. I had learned how to focus all of my energy, what little there seemed to be left, into just being. School would require more than being.

I arrived at school as late as possible. As I pulled into the parking lot, I instinctively looked for the Volvo. I didn't see it, and I hated myself for hoping.

I walked as slowly as possible to my first class. I didn't care if I was late. There was nothing they could do to me that could make me hurt more than I did now.

I went through the motions of school, somehow even finding the strength to sit at my normal table. The entire cafeteria stared as I made my way through the room. Nobody talked to me. They exchanged awkward glances that they thought I couldn't see. Once, Jessica opened her mouth to say something to me, but Mike gave her a look. They tried to be subtle. They weren't.

The moment the final bell rang, I walked faster than I had all day to my truck and pushed it as hard as possible to get home. As soon as I pulled into my driveway, Charlie opened up the front door to meet me. He had left work early so he could be there when I got home for school. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't do anything drastic if left alone. He asked how my day was, and I answered, "Fine." He tried again. "I thought we'd order pizza for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

I went upstairs and crawled into my bed, my shoes still on. Charlie would be disappointed, and I felt sorry, for his sake, sorry that he was worried about me. But there is nothing I can do about it.

The rain had stopped, at least for now; meanwhile, I am still sinking with no idea how to hold myself up.


End file.
